Aftermath
by LissaAnn
Summary: Dean tries to put Sam back together after 2x17 "Heart". spoilers!


1) This story is set immediately after the end of "Heart".

2) This is the first time I've ever written a fiction fic. I normally write RPS in the baseball fandom. But after seeing "Heart", I died several times and this came out over one day of work. I didn't have it beta'ed, spelling should be fine, but I hope Sam and Dean are accurate.

It seemed to be an eternity between the time Dean heard the shot and Sam coming out of the other room. Sam's clothes were covered in blood – Madison's blood. He walked towards Dean but his eyes had that far away look that he sometimes got after a hunt. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, letting Sam hold on to him and sob on his shoulder. Dean did his best to try and calm him down, but realized that the only way that was going to happen was for them to go back to the motel and leave quickly, moving on to their next destination, once they had completed their task here.

Sam quietly took Madison's body down to the Impala and gently placed her in the back seat. Dean was about to say something about her being there, but then realized that Sam had decided to stay back there with her, holding her in his arms, not wanting to think about what comes next.

Dean drove to the outskirts of the quiet area Madison lived. He found a small park, set off from the road. Dean reaches back to help Sam, who pulls away and maneuvers his way out of the car with her. Dean brought the rock salt, the matches and the shovel.

Sam looked at Dean, and almost as if Sam had talked to him telepathically, Dean began to dig. Sam stood, still holding Madison, kissing her face and forehead, whispering into her ear, which Dean was not able to hear. Once Dean had dug the grave, Sam said, "I want to do this…to finish this." Dean nodded solemnly.

Sam lowered her silently into the ground. He shook the salt over her body, took a deep breath and with tears sliding out of his eyes, he lit the match and dropped it into the hole.

Sam was almost inconsolable as he watched her body turn to ash. Dean stood by, not sure whether to touch Sam, to let him know that he was close should Sam need anything or to just stand back and let Sam grieve. He stood close, but did not touch him, Sam lost in his own little world. Dean took his elbow and led Sam back to the Impala, Sam not resisting but not moving on his own.

They got back to their room and Dean began to hastily pack. Sam sat on the bed, eyes still not focusing on anything.

Dean moved in front of Sam and snapped his fingers several times hoping to wake Sam from whatever trance he was in. Sam sort of snapped back to reality. "C'mon, Sammy. Time to head out."

Sam didn't look at Dean. He hadn't changed his clothes that were soaked with blood. He sighed softly and quietly said, "I'm tired, Dean." He paused and Dean sat across on the other bed, waiting for Sam to continue. "I stayed up all night with ---", his voice faltered. "I stayed up all night and I'm tired. I don't want to sleep in the Impala. Can we just stay here for a while?"

Dean really didn't want to stay in San Francisco – too many weird things, even for their experiences. But Dean really could not deny Sam anything right now – not after what Sam needed to do. "Sure, Sammy. We can stay. You gonna be able to sleep?"

Sam lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, rested his hands on his stomach, still covered in blood, and nodded. Dean turned on the TV softly; he wouldn't sleep now. He wanted to keep his attention on Sam for the time being. It wasn't long before he heard Sam's even, soft breaths that indicated sleep.

Dean sat back and began to think of what he would do if he had been in Sam's position. He knew he was strong…he had to be for Sam's sake. He then realized that this was not the first time that Sam had been asked to kill someone he loved. Their dad had asked him to kill him when he was possessed by the demon. Sam had been unable to kill the demon because he refused to kill his father.

Dean wondered where Sam got the strength to shoot Madison. He knew that Madison was the first person Sam had made love to since Jess. Besides the thought that Sam had probably felt incredibly guilty about that – Sam had some serious grief issues about Jess' death – now he had to…

He realized that Sam was sleeping restlessly, moving and kicking. He sat up and kept a watchful eye on Sam.

Sam, in the meantime, was in the middle of a dream. He was brought back to Madison's apartment, just before he shot her. They were alone in the room, and Sam had the gun in his hand. He looked at it, then at her. He wished she hadn't asked him to do this. He kissed her softly for a long moment. His mouth moved up to her ear where he whispered, "I love you."

Tears began to stream from her eyes. "I am so sorry," she said to him. "I wish there could be another way." She pulled him close and spoke softly, "I love you, too. Please. I need you to do this."

He kissed her as he fired the gun into her chest. She started to fall backwards, Sam's arm catching her. He gently lowered her to the ground. She was barely able to whisper, "thank you" and Sam to answer, "I'm sorry" before her breath stopped. Sam cradled her in his arms for a few minutes before kissing her forehead and leaving the room.

Sam thought he heard someone scream, unable to make out what they had said, and the next thing he realized was Dean, shaking him and saying, "Wake up, Sam. Sam. Wake up."

He opened his eyes, looking directly into Dean's. Dean stopped shaking him and softly asked, "Are you all right?" Sam blinked his eyes several times and said, "Yeah.", even though it wasn't really true, and Dean knew it.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"You were having a nightmare. It must have been about Madison – you screamed out her name." He put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder. "What was the dream about?"

"I was reliving what happened." He slowly recounted the events to Dean, tears flowing freely. Embarrassed, Sam put his elbows on his thighs and hid his face in his hands.

Dean put an arm around Sam's shoulder. "It's okay, Sammy. I'm here."

"Why me, Dean? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing!" Dean answered forcefully.

"All the women in my life keep dying. Mom, Jess, Madison – why? Why did mom have to die? Why couldn't I have saved Jess and Madison?" Sam spoke so quickly that Dean had a hard time hearing what he was saying.

"Sam, it's not your fault. None of it. We're hunting what killed Mom and Jess – we're gonna kill him, I swear."

"That doesn't bring Mom or Jess back!" Sam said angrily. "And now…"

"Sammy, I am truly sorry about what happened with Madison. It's clear you cared for her very deeply. She was a great person. But there wasn't anything you could do. You did all you were able to."

"There's something I missed. I just know it."

"Sam, you have got to stop beating yourself up. About Madison. About Jess. Do you really think that they want you to be like this?"

"I will as soon as you stop beating yourself up about Dad."

Dean winced. He had a point there. "C'mon, Sammy. Let's get the hell out of here." He threw Sam a clean t-shirt. Sam slowly pulled off his shirt, looking at it, and threw it in the trash. They finished packing and headed out to the Impala.

Sam turned around to take a last look at the room, and could have sworn that he saw Jess and Madison standing in the room, smiling. He slowly shut the door.


End file.
